


you, undeniable you

by returnsandreturns



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Loud Sex, Pegging, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/pseuds/returnsandreturns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Jake asks, for the fourth time. “Because we can just ditch that thing, toss it out a window, do it missionary like the founding fathers intended.” </p><p>“Do you still want it?” Amy asks, also for the fourth time. </p><p>Jake looks at the strap-on that’s finally strapped on, hanging between Amy’s legs. She’s still wearing her old NYPD sweatshirt, standing in Jake’s bedroom with her arms at her sides, smiling down at him where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.</p><p>“. . .yeah,” he breathes. “Yes, yeah, I want it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you, undeniable you

**Author's Note:**

> written [for a prompt meme on tumblr](http://returnsandreturns.tumblr.com/post/143640373138/shit-also-that-5-was-for-mattfoggy-oh-or-b99) and also i have one million feelings about jake and amy and praise kink, so here we go <3

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Jake asks, for the fourth time. “Because we can just ditch that thing, toss it out a window, do it missionary like the founding fathers intended.”

“Do you still want it?” Amy asks, also for the fourth time.

Jake looks at the strap-on that’s finally strapped on, hanging between Amy’s legs. She’s still wearing her old NYPD sweatshirt, standing in Jake’s bedroom with her arms at her sides, smiling down at him where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“. . .yeah,” he breathes. “Yes, yeah, I want it.”

“Anyway,” Amy says, shrugging a little. “I’m pretty sure the founding fathers just kind of stuck it wherever they wanted. That’s basically the entire plot of _Hamilton_.”

“I still can’t believe that you won the lottery and you took _Gina_ ,” Jake says.

“You think I’m going to make an enemy of Gina?” she asks. “I’ve seen what she can do.”

“Almost get arrested for stalking Jefferson,” Jake says. “That’s what she can do.”

“Exactly,” Amy says. “Imagine what she’d do to me if I kept her from that opportunity.”

“Imagine what she would do if you hadn’t been there to almost arrest her,” Jake says, smiling when Amy laughs. She pulls at the bottom of her sweatshirt for a moment before one hand slips down to run over the dildo, holding it loosely. Jake stares at it for a long moment before he looks up to see Amy watching him, looking shy and a little determined, no makeup and her hair pulled back in a smooth business-like ponytail.

“You should take your pants off,” she says, firmly. “That’s probably step one.”

God, he’s super in love with her.

“Did you write down the steps?” he asks, getting to his feet to step out of his pajama pants. “Were there flash cards involved?”

“Of course not,” Amy says. “Who uses flash cards for sex?”

Jake gives her a look.

“There _may_ have been a— _flow_ chart,” she says, nonchalantly.

“That’s my girl,” he says, and Amy makes a soft happy noise and steps in to kiss him, her fingers sliding across the line of his jaw. They slide into his hair when he opens his mouth for her.

“Lay down on your back, Jake,” she says, when they pull apart, kissing him one more time when Jake stares at her with wide eyes and nods. She hugs him close for a second. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

Jake feels weirdly speechless as he climbs back onto the bed. He’s not used to that. That’s not—a thing that happens to him. He sprawls on his back in the middle of the bed and ignores the urge to touch himself, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches Amy move around the room.

She says, “Catch,” and tosses a bottle of lube at him. He fumbles it, making a face at her.

“I’m an only child with an absent father,” he says. “You can’t just throw things at me.”

“Sorry,” she says. “Let me make it up to you.”

When she pulls her sweatshirt over her head, so she’s standing in front of him wearing nothing but the strap-on, Jake momentarily forgets how to breathe.

“Okay,” he says, weakly. “Make it up to me.”

Amy bites her lip around a smile, and the dildo bounces when she climbs up onto the bed, and it’s—this overwhelming mix of _literally fuck me right now_ hot and _how are you even real_ cute that is linked exclusively to Amy in his mind. He can barely stand it, reaches out for her and letting out a sigh when she lets him pull her on top of him.

The dildo nudges up against his stomach when she kisses him.

“Amy,” he says.

“I’ve got you,” she says, sweetly, combing fingers through his hair. “Spread your legs.”

“You’re not gonna get a diagram out?” he asks, as she moves down to press a soft kiss to his stomach, his hip.

“I don’t need it,” she says, brightly, tapping her fingers gently at the base of Jake’s dick so he squirms while her other hand reaches for the lube. “I practiced.”  

“You practiced?” he asks, voice breaking on a desperate laugh when slick fingers slide up his dick. “How?”

“On myself,” she says, then slides her fingers down slowly to press against his hole.

“Oh,” Jake says, faintly. “Right.”

This might kill him, but what a great way to go out.

“Tell my story,” he says, reaching up to touch Amy’s face.

“. . .sure,” she says, slowly. “Anyway, I think I’ve really got this down—I mean, the angle’s different, and there’s definitely more hair happening, but—”

One of her fingers slides inside of him, and Jake says, “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” Amy says, happily. “Anatomy’s really just anatomy.”

She pets his side aimlessly as she fucks him open, slow and methodical, while Jake tries and fails repeatedly to make words come out of his mouth. When he makes an overwhelmed noise, Amy just asks, seriously, “Do you like it?” and twists her fingers a little.

“I love you,” Jake says, a little ashamed of how dreamy his voice is.

Amy laughs.

“I love _you_ ,” she says, pulling her fingers out and leaning over top of him to grab a washcloth from the nightstand. On her way back, she stops to kiss his forehead, and he wraps his arms around her so she’s pressed up against his chest. She turns to press her smile to his cheek. “Are you ready?”

“Uh huh,” Jake says. “Ready, so ready, let’s do this thing.”

“Good,” Amy says, patting his cheek, and Jake grins stupidly at her as she moves back down to kneel between his legs. He moves when she touches him carefully, until she has a pillow under his hips and she’s pushing inside of him.

The noise he makes kind of reverberates off the walls. He’s maybe a screamer.

“Jake, _sweetheart_ , remember the noise complaints,” Amy says.

Amy’s neighbors are _squares_ and also _villains._

“I can’t guarantee anything,” he says. “I’m _expressive_ , it’s part of my charm.”

“I know,” Amy says, pushing in a little more, squeezing Jake’s hip when he moans again. “I know, and I love that about you, but Mrs. Johnson’s going to take me off her Christmas card list and you _know_ that’ll haunt me.”

Their hips are nudging together now, and Amy’s hand tightens where it was just sprawled over his waist. When she rocks up a little, he genuinely can’t stop the noise that comes out of him, one hand groping up so he can grab her arm.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Amy says, softly. “I’m just going to—”

She leans in to touch fingers to his lips, nodding when he opens his mouth and lets her slip them inside.

“Bite down,” she urges, as she starts to fuck him slowly, and Jake nods erratically, biting and licking at her fingers to hide the fact that he’s basically just whimpering. But, you know. Like a _man._

“Faster,” he says, garbled around her fingers.

“Yeah?” Amy asks, shoving in hard. He bites down a little too hard and she yelps, laughs before she murmurs, “That’s it. Good boy.”

Okay, that’s not even _fair_. Amy stumbled on that little phrase a few weeks ago and has been ruthlessly exploiting it ever since.

She fucks him harder, getting a rhythm up until Jake’s running his hands up and down her back, saying nonsense around her fingers to urge her on until she says, “Are you—should I—”

Her other hand moves from where it was digging into his waist to touch his dick, and Jake moans out a reply that he’s pretty sure is an equivalent to a yes because Amy’s hand starts to move, her hips pushing forward in neat little strokes.

Her fingers press against his tongue when he comes, loudly, barely muffled.

Next door, Mrs. Johnson’s dog starts to bark.

“Sorry,” he says, even though he’s not, breathing heavily as Amy moves to collapse on top of him, still inside of him. “No Christmas card this year.”

“ _Screw_ Mrs. Johnson,” Amy says, fiercely.

“Sant _iago_ ,” he says, grinning.  

“Peralta,” she breathes in reply, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“Let’s get that thing off you,” Jake says, getting a hand between them to slip fingers under the harness, “and see if you can get loud enough to make her _move_.”


End file.
